A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, my husband and I spent several years navigating the rather surreal world of infertility. Tubes were checked, sperm were counted, hormone levels were graphed, ovulation tester sticks were peed upon, and powerful drugs were taken, both orally and by injection. You know you've hit rock bottom when you say with great weariness, "Honey, we have to have sex tonight," and you both approach it as some kind of grim chore, not much more pleasant than cleaning out the litter box.
So here, in no particular order, are:
The Top Ten Things Not To Say To Someone Experiencing Infertility
(1) You need to relax!
The fact that rape victims can get pregnant puts this one to rest pretty quickly. I can't think of too many situations that are more stressful than that.
Of course, I was experiencing anxiety over this, but telling me that I need to relax sounds like you're blaming me. Infertility is a kind of illness, a malfunction of one of the body's systems, so please treat it that way. You wouldn't tell a cancer patient that she'll get well if she will "relax", would you?
(2) You should just adopt!
Adoption? Why, I've never heard of that! You say you can pay thousands and thousands of dollars, have every aspect of your life scrutinized, get put on a potentially years-long waiting list, and then possibly have the biological parent change her mind? Sign me up!
Seriously, though, this one really irks me. After several years of infertility testing and treatment, we were tapped out physically, emotionally and financially.
It's not just some kind of checklist you go through
- Try naturally: Check.
- Go through testing: Check.
- Clomid and timed intercourse: Check.
- Injectables and IUI: Check.
- IVF: Check.
- Adoption: Check.
and only when you complete the checklist are you allowed to grieve your inability to have a child. No. No matter where you stop, you're still allowed to grieve.
After spending years trying to become pregnant, considering adoption is a complete switching of gears, and it's just not always possible to do that. Sometimes you just want it all to be over.
(3) You want kids? Please, take mine!
Oh, I get it. Raising kids is hard! Thanks, but I think I already knew this. And besides, I don't want your kids. They're funny looking and rude (I'm kidding - your children are adorable). Also, you don't really mean this. You're just trying to be cute, and you're not succeeding.
(4) There's probably a reason for it.
Like, maybe, my child is going to be the next Hitler or Manson? Something like that?
Sometimes bad stuff just happens, and that's that. At least that's the way I look at things. Please respect that.
(5) Oh, you're still young. It'll happen.
I'm not that young and how do you know it'll happen?
You are not clairvoyant. Don't give me false hope based on nothing more than your need to be "supportive".
(6) My cousin adopted a baby, and then one year later, boom, she was pregnant!
Well that's certainly a good reason to adopt, isn't it? I'm also pretty sure this doesn't always work. I can just hear the discussion now...
Kid: Mom and Dad, why did you adopt me?
Mom and Dad: Well, we really thought that, if we adopted a baby, then we'd get pregnant.
Kid: But I don't have a brother or a sister. So it didn't work, right?
Mom and Dad: No it didn't. But we've got you. And you're the next best thing! (Kid is now in therapy.)
(7) Have you tried accupuncture - meditation - standing on your head after sex, etc.?
Certainly not all at the same time! But, yes, believe me, we explored just about every avenue, be it based on medical science or on an old wives tale. We even went to a Chinese herbalist, who kept talking about "the house of the baby" (I assume he was referring to my uterus), and I spent two weeks drinking some sort of dark brown liquid twice a day that tasted like a combination of tree bark and liver. It made me want to throw up, which is the closest to pregnant I got with it!
(8) I wish I had that problem!
So you're...what? Hyperfertile? There are things you can take for that, you know. Now please go away before your water breaks on my carpet.
(9) There are too many people in the world anyway.
Thank you Mr. Malthus! I fully realize this, and I promise that, if I'm lucky enough to have one, I'll immediately kill myself so it'll all even out.
Besides, you should be talking to the Duggar family. They live in Tontitown, Arkansas, and they probably have their own page in the phone book.
(10) I think that people who have infertility treatments are selfish.
I am actually torn on this one. I did think it was kind of selfish when I was going through it. Selfish for me - I'd never judge someone else for it. It was also incredibly expensive and mostly not covered by insurance. I know that medical resources are a finite commodity, so, yes, I was conflicted.
But is it only the treatment that's selfish, or the desire for a child in the first place? Frankly, I thought they were both selfish (again, for me), but it seems like it's only the infertile person who is "lucky" enough to hear this one.
In situations like this, here's a good rule of thumb: Not every opinion that is in your head needs to be voiced.
I know that people want to help, they want to be encouraging, and they want to say something. I truly appreciate all of the people who listened, who cared, who prayed, and who felt some empathy with us. I don't believe that any of the inappropriate things people may have said were said with malice or out of spite. And believe me, I'm not perfect either, so I learned from my own "foot-in-mouth" experiences what not to say to other people going through this. The same principles can be applied to any other situation where someone is suffering and you want to say something. Acknowledge the pain, offer your support, and express your hope that things will get better.
If someone shares their infertility issues with you, I think the best thing to say is something like this, "I'm sorry you're going through this. I'm sure it's difficult, and I hope things work out for you. Let me know if there's anything I can do."
